


In The Life of A Loaded Gun

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Felching, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just what I said.  You are not putting a blindfold on me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Life of A Loaded Gun

**Author's Note:**

> rasah bought me for Sweet Charity. She asked for blindfold, hands-tied, felching. Here you go, darlin'!

John sometimes wondered how he got himself into these positions. He was cuffed to the bed, and Rodney was holding up what looked like a blindfold. "No."

"What do you mean, no?" Rodney asked, and John could have sworn that the man was _pouting_.

"Just what I said. You are not putting a blindfold on me." John couldn't begin to explain how frightening it was. Losing his sight - it was every pilot's worst nightmare. And yeah, he understood that it was temporary and all that, but still. No one said he had to be rational _all_ the time.

Rodney sat down on the edge of the bed, running one hand down the length of John's arm and on to his chest, letting it rest over his heart. "What's wrong, John?"

"I just don't want it," John said, aware that he sounded petulant, but not willing to voice his (wholly reasonable) fear. Rodney continued to stroke his chest, looking thoughtful.

"Close your eyes," he said abruptly. John hesitated, but this was within his control. He could do this. He closed them tightly. "So it's not the dark that has you afraid," Rodney said. "Is it the loss of control? May I remind you that you're the one tied to the bed?"

John opened his eyes petulantly and glared. "Ah, ah, ah!" Rodney said, lifting one finger. "You promised."

Sullenly, John nodded and closed them again. "You gonna psychoanalyze me now?"

"Soft science," Rodney scoffed. "No, I'm going to do this." And he lifted his hand off John's chest and laid it directly over John's cock, which twitched up into Rodney's gentle grip. "There's part of you that definitely likes this, even if you won't tell me what's wrong." Rodney gave him a gentle stroke, from root to tip.

John couldn't stop the soft groan that escaped. Having his eyes closed, not being able to predict what Rodney was going to do, made everything more intense. "I'm no coward," he said, a little stung by the tone of Rodney's voice.

"Never said you were." Rodney was still touching his cock, even if the touch was too light, too slow. "You're just nervous about something you've not done before. But you know that all you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will. And I'll make it _so_ good for you."

Biting his lip, John tried to decide what to do. He could continue to resist, and Rodney wouldn't force the issue. Or he could give in and try it. Rodney was right. All he had to do was say stop, and Rodney would. Finally, decision made, he nodded sharply. "Do it."

Rodney didn't ask him if he was sure, which was a good thing, since he'd have to say no. Instead, he just wrapped the materiel around John's head, tying it on the side. "There. You won't have to lie on the knot that way."

He had to admit, he really didn't care. He hadn't realized how much light was getting through his eyelids till suddenly there wasn't any at all. He tried to focus on taking deep breaths, but he couldn't. He wanted nothing more than to demand that Rodney take it back off - and untie him while he was at it.

But Rodney's hand was back on his chest, and Rodney was saying, over and over again, "Breathe, John. Just breathe. Just relax, I've got you." Finally, his voice turned exasperated and he snapped out, "Dammit, John. I said _breathe_."

At that familiar tone of voice, John sucked in a deep breath. "Good boy," Rodney said.

That made John laugh a little. "Boy?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. The important thing is that you aren't hyperventilating anymore, so I don't have to worry about you passing out like a Victorian lady."

"Hey!" John hadn't been ready to pass out, even if he was a little lightheaded. He would have continued his objection, but Rodney's hand was back on his dick, and that was enough to distract anyone.

"You're beautiful like this," Rodney said. "I mean, I knew you would be, but I'd had no idea exactly how much I'd like seeing you, all tied up and blindfolded. I could do anything to you, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

The hand shifted from his dick to his balls, squeezing gently. John shook his head. "Trust you."

Abruptly, there were no hands on him anymore, and the bed swayed as Rodney stood up. Feeling cast adrift, John shook his cuffed hands and turned his hands to where he guessed Rodney would be. "You trust me?" Rodney asked. "I knew we were good, but you haven't said you trust me in a long time."

John felt a little sick to his stomach. Rodney thought he still didn't trust him, after everything? "I would never have slept with you if I didn't trust you with everything," John said, wanting to wrap his arms around Rodney, but he couldn't move. Finally, after a small eternity, the bed dipped, Rodney settling back down next to John, pressing so close that his thigh was against John's chest. "Hey, we were in the middle of something here," John said, trying to lighten the mood.

Rodney cleared his throat, and then wrapped his hand back around John's balls. "Yeah, we were." He stroked and squeezed John's sac gently and then released them. The bed shifted again as Rodney moved, turning and climbing up so that he was straddling John's waist. John had a little warning as Rodney leaned forward, and then they were kissing, deep and hard and _perfect_. He moaned into Rodney's mouth.

One of Rodney's hands was braced by John's shoulder, holding Rodney up. The other traced a slow path over John's collarbone and down to his nipple, which was pinched gently, making John twitch. He couldn't have stopped it if he'd tried - every sensation seemed to be doubled. "You're so reactive like this," Rodney said.

He shifted again, settling down further onto John, and his ass brushed against John's cock. John whimpered, trying to arch into the contact. "Fuck," he moaned.

Rodney chuckled into John's mouth and wiggled his ass, sending sparks of pleasure into John. But when John tried to thrust, tried to deepen the contact, Rodney pulled away. "None of that," he said. "I have _plans_ , and you're not going to keep me from them."

Oh, _hell_. Rodney with plans was always a dangerous thing. Yet John didn't struggle, didn't pull on the cuffs. There was something about being bound like this, helpless and at Rodney's mercy that really seemed to help John relax, even if he still wasn't quite sure about the blindfold. As long as Rodney kept touching him, he'd be fine, he thought.

Except that Rodney pulled away, climbing off John and off the bed entirely. Unable to see, John tried to keep from panicking, but as he realized he couldn't hear Rodney either, his breathing sped up and he started to pull on the ropes binding him to the bed. "Rodney? Don't do this," he said.

He calmed when Rodney laid a hand in the middle of his chest. He wasn't alone here, good. Logically, he knew that Rodney wouldn't be able to leave without John being able to hear him go, but the fear remained. "Shh, John," Rodney said, "I'm just grabbing the lube."

John nodded, short and sharp. If he knew what Rodney was doing, it was okay. "All right."

Rodney's hand slowly left his chest, and then he heard the sound of the nightstand drawer opening. Stuff was moved around, and then Rodney said, "Now I remember why we always do this in my room. What compels you to hide the lube when you know we're going to need it?" The drawer shut, and then Rodney climbed back on the bed.

It felt like John could breathe again. He let the tension flow out of his muscles as he relaxed back into the bed. Rodney tapped his leg, encouraging him to spread them, and when he did, Rodney slid into the space between his thighs.

There was shifting around, and then Rodney's hands on his cheeks, spreading him wide. John tipped his pelvis, trying to make it easier for Rodney to slide a slick finger inside of him but he didn't hear the lube being opened. Instead, there was the touch of something warm and wet against his hole. It took him a second to realize that it was Rodney's tongue. Oh, god.

Rodney's mouth was as clever in this as it was in speech. He used tongue and teeth to make him writhe and shout, plead and beg. There was nothing like the sensation of Rodney's tongue sliding into his hole, spearing him open. "Please, Rodney, please, touch me," he begged, knowing that if Rodney touched his cock, he'd explode.

But rather than oblige, Rodney pulled his mouth away from John's ass. "You're not getting off that easily," he said as one of his fingers slid into John, wet and slick. "I'm going to open you up, and then I'm going to fuck you. I don't want you to come until I tell you to."

John couldn't stop the whimper that broke free. He wanted to come _now_ , but Rodney twisted his finger, brushing over his prostate, effectively derailing John's argument before he could make it.

Two fingers now, and John's hips started to rock, fucking himself on Rodney's hand. "God, please, Rodney," he begged. "Please fuck me."

"Yeah, okay," Rodney said, voice tight like he was having trouble controlling himself. He pulled his fingers out, leaving John to cry out at the loss, but they were replaced by the hot length of Rodney's cock. John had to pant as Rodney slid into him, the stretch almost painful in its intensity.

Rodney worked his way inside with short thrusts, an inch at a time. Wanting more, wanting to _feel_ it, John wrapped his legs around Rodney's waist and _pulled_ , forcing Rodney to slide the rest of the way in on one long stroke.

This time it was Rodney's turn to cry out, and John smiled a little to himself. Even tied down and blindfolded, he still had it.

It didn't really matter, though, because he couldn't make Rodney move now that he was all the way inside. Pinned under Rodney's greater weight, he couldn't rock up into him; bound, he couldn't use his hands to urge him on. He couldn't even see the look on Rodney's face.

All he had was his voice, so he used it. "Move your ass, Rodney," he ordered, not holding out much hope, but figuring it was worth a try.

In response, Rodney chuckled. "How are you going to make me?"

"Revenge is sweet, McKay," John said with a growl.

"Yeah, yeah," Rodney said, pulling out a bit and then pushing back in with a roll of his hips, a move that effectively shorted out John's brain. "You're all talk, Sheppard."

"Uh..." John tried to think of a response, but Rodney was finally moving, and John was afraid that he might stop. He lost himself in the steady rhythm of Rodney's hips, in his hands on John's shoulders, pinning him to the bed. Each stroke of Rodney's cock over his prostate drove him higher, making him whimper and whine. Pinned as he was under Rodney's greater weight, he couldn't push back, couldn't force Rodney to speed up. He started begging again. "Rodney, Rodney, please," he said, voice a hoarse whisper. "Need to come so badly."  
"That's really too bad," Rodney said, and John could _hear_ the smile in his voice. "I'm not ready for you to come yet."

Gradually, Rodney was speeding up, the bed rocking in place under the force of his thrusts. John could feel the orgasm just out of reach. He'd never been able to get there without some sort of stimulation to his cock, and this was no different. But he had to trust that Rodney wouldn't leave him hanging.

He forced himself to relax, to take each thrust as it came. Even without coming, there was an intense pleasure in this, and it made him groan.

As if he sensed John giving in, Rodney's hips started snapping forward, fast and deep and hard. "I'm going to come in you, John," Rodney said. "Going to fill you up, and then I'm going to get you off."

John cried out inarticulately. He didn't know if he'd be able to hold back. If his hands hadn't been bound, he would have already reached down, grabbed his cock. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't even see Rodney's face, see if he was laughing at John, or gloating, or lost in pleasure, and he wanted to _know_.

"Rodney, need to see you, please," he begged. "Please."

There was a shift, and Rodney grabbed the blindfold by the knot, yanking it off. John blinked in the sudden light, trying to adjust, only to see Rodney, sweaty and red, pleasure washing across his features.

He shifted again, rising up on his knees, forcing John to roll his hips up. Each short, sharp thrust nailed his prostate, and a glance at his dick showed a steady stream of precome dripping out of his dick and landing on his stomach. Rodney glanced down and _smiled_ , before he closed his own eyes.

One, two, three more deep strokes and Rodney came with a deep groan. Desperate, John squirmed. "You have to untie me sometime, McKay," he said as Rodney pulled out. "I _will_ shoot you."

"You're all talk, Sheppard," Rodney said as he slid down the bed. "But don't worry, I'm going to make you come." He licked a long path, from John's balls to the head of his dick, and then he stopped.

"I'm going to kill you."

Rather than respond, Rodney slid further down, forcing John's legs apart. "What are you doing?" John asked. He did _not_ squeak.

"Just what you think I'm going to do." And then there was warm and wet against his hole. John instinctively tightened up, trying to keep Rodney's tongue out of his ass, but with Rodney between his thighs, he couldn't do it.

"Stop," he said, but even he would have to admit that he sounded unsure. And his cock sure seemed to like the stimulation of being tongue fucked.

Letting his muscles relax, he lost himself in the sensation. McKay had rimmed him before fucking him, true, but this was different. It was nastier, dirtier, plus it seemed like his hole was more sensitive. When Rodney pressed his tongue in deep, John couldn't stop himself from pushing back, or the loud groan.

When Rodney wrapped a hand around John's cock, jerking it gently as he continued to lick John, John moaned. "Oh, yeah, just a little more..." he said.

He could _feel_ Rodney smile against his ass, and that was weird. No time to comment on it, though, because his long delayed orgasm was coming up with the force of a freight train.

Rodney gave a particularly hard squeeze, and _bit_ at the edge of John's hole, making John yell as he came, striping his chest and belly, and ew, getting it in his hair.

His tongue slowed and gradually pulled away from John's body. His mouth was shiny, and John dimly realized that that was Rodney's come on his face. Gross. But John had to admit that the pleasure had been worth it. "Fuck," he said on a long, slow exhale.

"Just did that," Rodney said. "Give me an hour and a nap before asking for it again."

John stuck his tongue out at Rodney. Then he yanked on the bonds around his wrists. "Gonna untie me now?"

"I don't know," Rodney said. "You're pretty hot tied to my bed, and this way I don't have to explain to any chief's daughters that you're _mine_."

With a sigh, John said, "That happened _once_."

Except that Rodney looked pityingly at him and shook his head. "More than once?" he asked, embarrassed.

"A _lot_ more," Rodney said. He leaned forward and started to untie the rope. "It's okay, though," he said. "I'll just remind you who you belong to as often as I can."

Bringing his hands down, he wrapped them around Rodney's neck and tugged him down into an embrace. He did turn his head away so that Rodney couldn't kiss him, because ew. "I'm yours," he said.

"Yep," Rodney said. "And I'm yours." Gradually, John relaxed into the bed, Rodney's body weight holding him down and making him smile. "Go to sleep," Rodney said. "It's your turn after a nap - want to tie me up?"

John nodded sleepily. "And gag you." He fell asleep to the sounds of Rodney fussing.


End file.
